


Courting Cecily Herondale

by liviadovehallow



Category: The Infernal Devices Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Dating, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:14:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26455468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liviadovehallow/pseuds/liviadovehallow
Summary: As if fighting an army of demon automatons wasn't enough stress in Gabriel Lightwood's life, he has found himself falling drastically in love with one Cecily Herondale.Follow Gabriel and Cecily through their courtship, including meeting the parents, one ill-fated outing along the Tower of London, and, of course, the ever-persistent Will Herondale, doing his best to ensure that Gabriel Lightwood is the best match for his sister.
Relationships: Cecily Herondale/Gabriel Lightwood
Comments: 12
Kudos: 45





	1. Will Finds Out

**Author's Note:**

> Based on: “’You didn’t look at me at dinner,’ [Gideon] said, dropping his voice. It was true—dinner had been a quick affair of cold roast chicken and potatoes. No one had seemed to have much appetite, save Gabriel and Cecily, who’d eaten as if they had spent the day training. Perhaps they had.” (Clockwork Princess, p. 483).
> 
> &
> 
> “[Tessa] told Charlotte to stop treating him like glass that would break and to send him out into the city to fight, as he had been sent before, with Gabriel or Gideon instead of Jem. And Charlotte had done it, uneasily, but Will had come back from them bloody and bruised, but with his eyes alive and alight.
> 
> ‘That was clever,’ Cecily had said to her later, as they’d stood by the window, watching Will and Gabriel talking in the courtyard. ‘Being Nephilim gives my brother a purpose. Shadowhunting will mend the cracks in him. Shadowhunting, and you.’” (Clockwork Princess, p. 521).

The hushed voices of her brother and Tessa drifted outside the doors to the library. Cecily’s hands lingered on the handles, where she was hesitating slightly to declare to her brother what she had wanted to declare for several days now. Between the stolen kisses in the corridor and the covert training sessions, Cecily couldn’t hide her relationship with Gabriel for much longer.

Unwilling to let herself quail, and without another thought, Cecily pushed open the doors to the library and marched right up to the center table, where Will was just approaching, and Tessa was seated.

She lifted her chin and stared evenly at her brother, who had stopped and stared at her curiously. “I have feelings for Gabriel Lightwood,” she stated.

Will dropped the stack of books he had been holding in his arms and gaped at her. His eyes were wide, his hair wild as usual, and his expression morphed into a mix of disgust and horror. _“Gabriel Lightwood?”_

“Yes.” Cecily stood up taller. “And he has expressed mutual feelings for me.” Tessa immediately reached over and gripped Will’s arm, as if to prevent him from swinging it.

"He _what_?” Will’s tone was murderous. Tessa gave Cecily a sympathetic look, but Cecily was rather unimpressed with it all. She rolled her eyes.

“Am I not allowed to find a suitor, Will?”

“Anyone but a Lightwood!”

Cecily exhaled a loud sigh with deliberate annoyance. She crossed her arms in front of her, as if to show Will that she had already made up her mind. “Would you rather I developed feelings for Cyril? Or perhaps you’d rather I die an old maid.”

“Both are perfectly honorable options.”

“Will,” Tessa scolded.

Cecily snapped. “I find it unbelievable that you of all people would not understand.”

Will’s wild expression had yet to fade. “What is that supposed to mean?” he asked.

“I am also a Herondale,” Cecily said. “Herondales love only once. The saying is not limited to the men of the family.”

Will looked as if Cecily had just slapped him across the face. “Cecily,” he said in dangerous tones. “Did you just say you _love_ Gabriel Lightwood?”

A burning rose in Cecily’s cheeks; she had not intended to imply that, but she held her ground, unwilling to waver in front of her brother on this matter. “No,” she answered curtly. “Not yet anyway. But he is the one I choose, and you and I both know what that means.”

Will’s face remained contorted in disgust, but Tessa smiled at Cecily kindly. “I think Gabriel has shown that he is capable of great good,” she said, turning to Will. “You two have become friends, haven’t you? What of it if Cecily fancies him?”

“What of it?” Will answered, throwing his hands up. “Gabriel Lightworm is sweet on my sister! That is not grounds for friendship, Tess.”

Cecily looked at Tessa in exasperation and pleading. As if understanding the message Cecily intended to convey, Tessa nodded and stood from her seat, soothingly patting Will’s arm. “The Lightwoods have proven their loyalties, Will,” she said gently. “And it is to the Institute and everyone in it. Why else would they have gone to Cadair Idris?”

“Gideon went for Sophie, and out of duty to Charlotte,” Will replied. “And until this point I believed Gabriel went for Gideon. I see now there may have been another reason.”

The burning in Cecily’s cheeks remained, but so did her stubbornness. “Would you rather I found a suitor who cared nothing for me at all, then?”

“No,” Will said instantly and with the staunchest unhappiness, slumping into his seat. “I just didn’t think it would be Gabriel Lightwood. I had thought I spotted him looking at you in manners other than general interest, but the Angel knows I hoped for better.” He sighed and looked up her with growing resignation. “Does he treat you well?”

“Yes. A perfect gentleman.”

Will glanced at Tessa then back at Cecily. “I am not thrilled,” he said, “but Gabriel Lightwood does exhibit a type of loyalty that leads me to believe he is not the worst choice in the world for you.” He paused, then grabbed Tessa’s hand. “Quick, jam that poker into my eyes before I say another kind thing about Gabriel Lightworm.”

The curtain fluttered closed in the window, Cecily’s and Tessa’s faces disappearing behind it. Outside in the courtyard the air was crisp, with the first signs of a wet winter settling on the stone. Gabriel stood before Will, who had yet to speak a word to him since Cecily revealed their understanding to him that morning. They were both dressed in their gear, preparing for their patrol that evening. Will looked at him steadily, as if analyzing every inch of Gabriel’s face several times over before coming to any decision. His chin was bruised from their patrol the night before, of which he refused an iratze, and it made him look more threatening than usual. Not that Gabriel usually found Will threatening at all, but one supposed that sharing his feelings for a girl to her older brother would warrant a bit of uneasiness, particularly if that brother was someone whom you shared an intense mutual dislike for many years.

Will’s face had not changed from its wary expression, nor had his hands moved much from his cleaning of his knives. Whether Will intended to simply maintain their shine or remind Gabriel of his being well-armed, Gabriel was unsure.

Will sighed and turned one of his knives over in his palm. The shine reflected the light pouring into the courtyard from the rune stones along the walls onto Will’s face. His posture was resigned, but there was a clench in his jaw that revealed his apprehension. “I suppose I don’t need to remind you that I’ve broken your arm once, and I will do it again, if you ever hurt my sister.”

Gabriel looked at Will. His voice was steady, assured. “I care for her too much to ever do that.”

“Horrifying,” said Will, flinching. Gabriel rocked on his feet, attempting to understand Will’s reaction. He had fully prepared himself for an outburst of dramatic proportion; Cecily had described his bewildered reaction to learning of their being together, but Gabriel had not believed that Will had appeared to approve in the end.

“That is all?” Gabriel asked warily. “You are not angry?”

There was a flicker of emotion on Will’s face, though Gabriel could not determine which emotion it was. “Let me be honest, Lightwood. I have noticed a great change in Cecily since Cadair Idris. At first, I thought it was the rush of experiencing the full life of a Shadowhunter. I see now that there are a great many things that have changed my sister through the years that have culminated in who she is now. Don’t think I don’t pay close enough attention to my little sister to notice the way she looks at you. I had hoped it was a lapse of good judgement—” Gabriel rolled his eyes— “but I see that those feelings are mutual, unfortunately.”

“If you are so greatly disappointed, why be so calm?”

“Perhaps, Gabriel,” Will said thoughtfully. “I comfort myself in the knowledge that if you should do any wrong to Cecily, not only shall I have free reign to kill you immediately, but that she is perfectly capable of causing great harm to you herself as well.”

Gabriel raised his eyebrow. “It is not, perhaps, that after all this time, you have come to think of us as friends, Will?”

Will made a gagging sound and pointed one of his knives at Gabriel. “I shall never speak those words. I am simply giving you the chance to make my sister happy, because I love Cecily and I want her to be happy. Why she had to choose a Lightwood is beyond my comprehension, but it is damn near impossible to change Cecily’s mind once it is made up.”

“I’m fully aware,” Gabriel answered fondly.

Will gagged again and shook his head. “You must understand something, Gabriel,” he said carefully, as if the topic of his sister was something of upmost importance to Will—which it obviously was. “Cecily is tough, and extremely stubborn and rash, but there is a part of her that is a romantic, and she dreams of being with someone who will give her the world.”

“I understand,” said Gabriel.

“Do you?” Will sheathed his knives and looked at Gabriel with an expression that made Gabriel uneasy. It was full of protective love—the same feeling Gabriel felt all those weeks ago at Chiswick House when he saw Tatiana’s carriage empty and bloodstained. “She will never admit it, but Cecily has experienced enough loss in her life that she is afraid of it happening again. I saw it in her eyes when she found me in the stables as I was leaving for Wales. She deserves someone who will never leave.”

Gabriel swallowed thickly. His own words echoed in his head. _Is loyalty still a commendable quality when it is misdirected?_ But loyalty directed toward Cecily Herondale would not be misdirected. Her heart-shaped face occupied his mind all hours of the day accompanied by a flutter in his heart. “I do understand,” Gabriel said again. “I don’t take loyalty lightly, Will.”

“No, I don’t suppose you do.” A moment of strained silence passed. Will looked up toward the Institute, where surely everyone had gone to bed by now. “Don’t make me regret agreeing to this, Lightwood.”

_Perhaps I have faith in you, Gabriel Lightwood._ “I won’t,” Gabriel said. He slipped on his gloves and stared off toward the gates of the Institute. “Let us patrol, then.”


	2. Meeting the Parents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Will’s grin widened. ‘Oh, him,’ he said. ‘This is Cecily’s—friend, Mr. Gabriel Lightworm.’
> 
> Gabriel, half in the act of stretching out his hand to greet Mr. Herondale, froze in horror. ‘Lightwood,’ he sputtered. ‘Gabriel Lightwood—”
> 
> ‘Will!’ Cecily said, breaking away from her father to glare at her brother.
> 
> Will looked at Tessa, his blue eyes shining. She opened her mouth to remonstrate with him, to say Will! as Cecily had just done, but it was too late—she was already laughing.” (Clockwork Princess, p. 545).

The foyer filled with the sounds of Will’s and Tessa’s mixed laughter. Cecily, however, did not feel the humor as they did. She glared at Will and Tessa, entirely unamused. The _nerve_ of Will—

“Lightwood?” her father echoed darkly, releasing Gabriel from their handshake. “As in Benedict Lightwood?”

Gabriel’s face hardened immediately. Cecily bit her lip, glancing quickly between her father and the boy at her side with growing apprehension. Will, no longer consumed with his laughter, responded with surprise. “Yes, Gabriel is Benedict’s son. You knew him?”

Her father’s face flickered with a range of emotion, culminating in a look of poorly concealed distaste. “Yes, I knew him,” said Edmund Herondale. “A right prick, he was.”

Will grinned, but Cecily looked at her father horrified. “Dad,” she said quietly, pulling on his sleeve. “Gabriel’s father is dead.” She turned to Gabriel, worried, but his face remained unchanged, nearly unreadable. Edmund’s face morphed into genuine surprise, but before he could utter a response, her mother cleared her throat.

“Oh, you must sit and have some tea!” she declared, gripping Will’s arm tightly with her small but strong hands. “There is so much to talk about.”

“Actually, Mam,” Will began, twisting his hands nervously in front of him. His skin had paled a bit, and his eyes revealed a great deal of worry and fear. Cecily, who was still angry with him for embarrassing Gabriel in front of their parents, softened. As much as she wanted to beat her brother with the nearest blunt object, she felt for the sorrow in his heart all those years they were apart. “There is something I need to tell you and Dad. Privately.”

  
  
  
Cecily lingered in the foyer after Will followed their parents into the family room. The manor seemed so foreign to her now after spending nearly five months in the London Institute. She’d nearly forgotten the layout of the home and its many oddities. A small raven sat on each of the ends of the handles at the bottom of the main stairway, but instead of birds’ wings, the ravens had angels’ wings. Cecily looked at them now, wondering if the strange curation of these statuettes had been a sign of the Shadow World.

“Cecy?”

She turned. Gabriel stood a short way behind her, looking at her with gentle concern. She couldn’t help but smile, though weakly. Having him there, in her parents’ home, was new and yet comfortingly familiar, like he belonged in the picture in her mind of home. “Where is Tessa?” she asked him.  
  
Gabriel gestured to the archway leading toward the garden. “She mentioned something about running through there during a prior visit. I thought it best not to ask for more information.” He stepped forward so he was standing closer to her now. Cecily made a mental note of the way he still maintained a respectable distance. It would earn him points with her father. “Are you all right?”  
  
“Yes,” she replied, turning back toward the stairway. Up the steps and to the right, through the second door, was her bedroom. She considered venturing there, looking at the belongings and clothing she’d left behind with the impression that she would return to live in it again, with her brother in the empty bedroom next door. But, now, standing at the foot of the steps, she could not bring herself to see it. “I’d simply forgotten about these hideous statues.”

Gabriel laughed. “A raven with angels’ wings. Not the sort of décor you’d expect in a manor home, but I suppose when the home originally belonged to a madman—”  
  
“I shudder at the thought,” Cecily stated with a shiver. The thought of being watched for so long by an army of those automatons, unknown to her and her parents, for the reason of threatening Will, still made her sick to her stomach. “Still, I have many memories of this house. I am the only child who lived here. It feels strange to me to have Will here, even though it is what I always wanted.”  
  
Gabriel took a deep breath. For a moment they stood in silence. Then, Gabriel stepped forward and ran his fingers along the wall beside the stairway. Just above the railing, in a small frame, was a well-preserved piece of wooden paneling, on which three sets of initials were etched.

_  
E.L.H.—W.O.H.—C.E.H._

  
“C-E-H?” Gabriel asked. “What does the E stand for?”

“Elizabeth.” Cecily smiled softly. She cocked her head to the side, recalling the way her mother refused to leave their family home in Wales without this panel. “My name is Cecily Elizabeth.”

“It suits you,” Gabriel answered, looking down at her beside him. “Very regal sounding.”

Cecily laughed, then reached up to run her own fingers across the frame. “Ella Linette, William Owen, and Cecily Elizabeth.” She paused. “Ella etched this. I remember when she did. It was just after Will had broken his arm. She thought it would help redirect some of my mother’s anger.”

He reached across the space between then and took her small hand in his. She turned to look at him and smiled, her eyes shining, but she would not cry. “My name is Gabriel John,” he said.

Cecily let out a bark of surprised laughter. “Gabriel John? Sounds like a farmer in a novel.”

Gabriel glared, but there was no malice in his eyes. Cecily knew he had said it to get her to smile. “Gideon Arthur, Gabriel John, and Tatiana Marie. I happen to think both my brother and sister got a much better deal.”

“I agree,” said Cecily. She looked up at him with a devilish smile, but his face was so consumed with betrayal that she had to laugh. “I’m sorry, did you want me to disagree?”  
  
“I suppose I should not have expected it,” he answered with resignation, though the corners of his mouth were upturned.

Cecily met his eyes. She wondered if her younger self, in all her imagination of her future, would have created someone like Gabriel; all green eyes and tousled brown hair, with a stubbornness to match hers and a soft heart. “Gabriel,” she said carefully. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know my father knew yours.”

She expected a flash of emotion; perhaps anger or guilt. Maybe even shame. But Gabriel only replied with, “It’s all right. It wasn’t exactly incorrect.”

“But he was still your father,” Cecily said as a matter of fact. Gabriel glanced over at the family room, where her parents were now staring at them from. She sighed and dropped his hand. She was unwilling to deal with the impropriety of standing alone with a boy while he was meeting her parents. From the look on his face, she knew Gabriel wasn’t either. “You don’t have to explain anything to them.”  
  
  
  


Cecily sat beside her father on a double seat near a large window that illuminated the entire room. The furniture was dark and remnant of the early nineteenth century with its intricate woodwork. The curtains were a faded green velvet that was likely once the same color as the furniture cushions but bleached with time and sun. Cecily had nearly fainted at the sight of such hideous décor upon arriving at Ravenscar Manor, but had said nothing. It made the room seem quite gothic, in her opinion, even with the rare sunshine of northern England shining through the windows. Gabriel hovered along the wall, standing, but remained near to her, to Cecily’s relief.

She’d nearly been able to entirely tune out the many questions her parents had for Will and Tessa. _How did you meet? Is that an American accent? What brought you to London?_ She’d nearly outed herself several times when a random question was directed her way. _Do you and Cecily get on well? Please tell me Will and Cecily have not tried to murder each other?_

“The prospect of sororicide may have been an option on occasion,” Will had answered with a grin. Cecily had made a very un-ladylike gesture at him.

“And what of you, Mr. Lightwood,” her mother asked Gabriel. Cecily looked up at him to find his expression a little frightened. “What is your family like?”

Cecily immediately mouthed to him: _you do not have to explain._

Gabriel nodded but smiled politely and replied anyway. “There is not much to tell,” he said. “Both my parents are gone, I’m afraid. My mother died when I was young, and my father only a few months ago. I have an older brother, Gideon, and a younger sister, Tatiana.”

Edmund frowned. “Barbara was a kind woman,” he said carefully. “I am sorry to hear you lost her so young. And I am sorry about what I said about your father. My experiences with him should not have affected my judgement of you.”

Cecily bit her lip. Gabriel wringed his hands. “My father and I had a complicated relationship,” he said tightly. “But I need not follow in his footsteps. My brother and I relinquished our family home to our sister. We intend to make a new name for the Lightwoods. A much better one, I hope.”

Cecily watched her father’s mouth upturn in the beginnings of an approving smile. She turned back to Gabriel with a grin, which he returned. Will gagged, and Cecily’s smile faltered into a glare. “Don’t be rude,” she snapped.  
  
“ _Gwilym_ _Owain_ ,” Linette Herondale warned. Will shot their mother a wild look, surprised at her reprimand. Cecily nearly giggled in victory. She knew Will was used to scolding; she’d seen Charlotte scold her brother enough times to know that that was not the reason he looked so surprised now. It was the fact that, perhaps, this was the first time he’d been scolded in his Welsh name in nearly six years. “Cecily has treated your guest with respect. I expect the same of you.”  
  
The wild look remained on Will’s face. “To _Gabriel?_ ”  
  
“He’s done nothing to you,” Cecily stated.  
  
“Except weasel his way into winning the affection of my sister. I take that as a personal affront.”  
  
Gabriel turned a deep shade of red and said nothing. Cecily turned a murderous look on her brother. “Will!”  
  
“Affection?” asked Edmund, as if he hadn’t suspected that was the case in Cecily’s bringing a boy home.  
  
“Affection!” sang Linette, in the manner that one sang when one knew they had been correct about something.  
  
“I am going to kill you,” said Cecily, glaring at Will.

“Oh!” Tessa exclaimed suddenly, trying to prevent a massive scene. She turned to both Cecily and Will with a sad smile. “It—It’s time. Charlotte will be opening the Portal.”

  
Gabriel looked at Tessa, the same awkward feeling between them from when they first arrived. Will and Cecily switched places, hugging their other parent before Mrs. Herondale walked over to him and Tessa and pulled them both into her embrace. Gabriel stared wide-eyed at Cecily over her mother’s shoulder, who smiled at him despite the clear sadness in her eyes at leaving her parents once more.

Mrs. Herondale’s voice was quiet, but assured, in his ear. “I can see my children care for you both very much. I hope to see you both again.”

“I hope so, too,” Tessa replied as they were released from the embrace. Gabriel simply nodded, his face suffering from a never-ending burn. The group moved toward the front of the manor, but Gabriel was stopped short by the firm grasp of Mr. Herondale’s hand on his shoulder.

“Mr. Lightwood, a word please.”

Gabriel tensed all over and faced Cecily’s father with a deep breath. “Of course, sir.”

Edmund smirked. Gabriel saw the familial resemblance, then, between Will and his father. “I will make this quick, as it seems this Portal business is rather pressing. I’d like to know your intentions with my daughter. As you can imagine, Cecily is rather dear to us.”

Gabriel swallowed. It felt like swallowing nails. “I understand, sir.” His whole body was burning now, and he considered for a moment that he must have looked like a rather ridiculous human tomato. He was immensely grateful that Will was not a part of this conversation. “I intend to court Cecily, sir. We have an understanding.”

There was no change in Mr. Herondale’s demeanor. “This understanding,” he said evenly. “It is exclusive, is it not?”  
  
“It is.” Gabriel stood stiffly in anticipation of the direction of the conversion, feeling his heart thumping harshly against his chest. A bead of sweat began to form at the base of his neck. He wondered if a Courage in Combat rune would have been useful now.

Cecily’s father nodded. “My son tells me that Cecily is a natural Shadowhunter. Is that your impression of her, as well?”  
  
Gabriel blinked in surprise. “Yes,” he answered honestly. “One of the bravest I’ve ever seen.”  
  
There was a brief pause before Mr. Herondale answered. “Cecily has always been fearless,” he said with fondness. “I imagine there will never be a need for a Fearless rune with her. But my wife and I are not Nephilim, Mr. Lightwood. I fear for my children.” Both men turned to watch as Cecily jabbed a finger into Will’s chest near the entryway. Gabriel could not hear her, but he assumed that Will was receiving a well-deserved sisterly reprimand. Mrs. Herondale stood between them, an exasperated look on her face. Mr. Herondale smiled sadly. “Far be it for me to dissuade my children from making their own decisions, however. Had I not made mine, I would not have them at all.”  
  
“They love you, Will and Cecily,” Gabriel answered. “They speak of you and Mrs. Herondale often and with great fondness. I cannot imagine that would ever change, even as they return to the Shadow World.”

The sad smile on Mr. Herondale’s face remained. “I am glad to hear it.” He turned back to Gabriel. “Cecily is a special girl, full of stubbornness and love all at once. She appears to trust you quite a bit, and I hope you understand the significance of that.”  
  
“I understand,” said Gabriel. He looked her father in the eyes and confidently added, “Cecily is strong. I know she does not give her trust lightly. I don’t intend to do anything that would break her trust in me.”

Mr. Herondale nodded, his face stern. “I do hope Cecily has made a good choice, Mr. Lightwood. Herondales tend to give their hearts only once, and I do not wish for Cecily’s to break.”

Gabriel’s eyes widened. “I do not wish it either, Mr. Herondale.”

“Good.” Mr. Herondale held his hand out. “It was very nice to meet you, Gabriel.”

Gabriel’s lungs finally filled with air. He shook her father’s hand with a firm grip. “Likewise, sir.”

“Gabriel!” Cecily called from the front door, exasperated. “Henry cannot keep the Portal open forever. I think Charlotte is beginning to fret.”

They went, the four of them, back through the Portal with a final glance back at Ravenscar Manor, where the small, distant figures of Edmund and Linette Herondale waved goodbye. There was a strange shimmering beside them, as if the wind had caught a fistful of Henry’s sparkling powder and held in mid-air in the vague shape of a child.

Gabriel held his arm out to Cecily, who beamed at him, and they stepped through the Portal.  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Extra:
> 
> Edmund Herondale approached his son, pulling him aside once more before the group departed back to London. "Watch over your sister, okay? I know you are about to start a new chapter in your life, my son, but--"
> 
> "I know, Dad," said Will. "Don't worry. I'll always look after Cecy."
> 
> Edmund looked at his son, so grown up, and now his same height. He'd always been grateful that his children had all inherited Linette's looks-- he always thought she was the epitome of beauty. "And watch out for that Lightwood boy. He seems like a well-enough gentleman, but Cecily is the baby, you know."
> 
> Will grinned a wicked smile, his blue eyes lighting up in mischief. "Oh, absolutely. Well ahead of you, Dad. Don't you worry about that."


	3. The Shadowhunter Codex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’ve got an arrow here; / Loving the hand that sent it, / I the dart revere. / Fell, they will say, in “skirmish”! / Vanquished, my soul will know, / By but a simple arrow / Sped by an archer’s bow.” -Emily Dickinson

Gabriel watched Cecily from across the table as she turned the pages of the Codex. It was silent, only the sound of the fire cracking in the mantle, but he could sit there for hours. Her hair was pinned neatly, and the gear she wore played in stark contrast to the boring atmosphere of the library. She held her face up on her fist, her elbow sliding slowly against the tabletop. Her cheek was squished against her fist, and Gabriel struggled not to say anything lest she move her head and deprive him of the sight. “This is so dreadfully long,” Cecily sighed. “Why can’t I train instead?”

Gabriel leaned forward and folded his arms atop the table. “Because Shadowhunters must know everything that is in the Codex. Have you even committed all the important runes to memory?”

“I know the memory rune,” Cecily said and sat up straighter, dropping her fist. Goodbye squished cheek. “Is that sufficient?”

Gabriel stared at her. So stubborn. “What about the different species of demon?”

Cecily opened her mouth to reply, surely in a smart retort, but Gabriel continued. “What are the Mortal Instruments? In what circumstances it is acceptable to use a Pyxis? What are our important ceremonies?”

“All right,” Cecily clipped and slammed the book shut. “If you’re so knowledgeable about these things, why I am reading it myself? I’d much rather hear it come from you.” Gabriel shut his mouth and looked evenly at Cecily. She was tweaked, he knew, but there was humor in her eyes. “And for the record, your Pyxis question is rather misleading. After Mortmain, there are no longer any circumstances in which we are to use a Pyxis.”

Gabriel’s mouth turned upward slowly. “So, you do listen to Charlotte’s lectures.”

Cecily sighed loudly and pushed the Codex off to the side. “Gabriel, please, this is painful. Just tell me what I need to know to complete my training.”

“You have nearly two more years of training, Cecy.”

She threw her hands up in annoyance and muttered something in Welsh that Gabriel assumed was likely a swear. He decided to take a chance. “That isn’t ladylike, Miss Herondale.”

Her eyes flashed. “I find it wildly rude of you, Mr. Lightwood, to call me by my family name when I have told you in no uncertain terms to address me by my Christian name.”

“Shadowhunters don’t have Christian names.”

Oh, it was so easy to poke at Cecily, but the way she glared at him at that moment made Gabriel realize that would be his last tweak. “All right,” he said with an undisturbed smile. “I will help you study the Codex.”

Cecily remained poised in her seat. “That is more like it,” she said, calm again. Gabriel reached across the table, grasped the Codex, and brought it to him. He opened it to the page Cecily had last been reading and immediately blushed.

_Life of Shadowhunters: Marriage_

Gabriel cleared his throat. “Any particular reason you’ve been studying this ceremony?” His voice cracked.

Cecily smiled slyly. “You said I needed to learn the ceremonies and given that both our brothers are to be married soon, I thought it be best to understand Nephilim weddings. Will already taught me the _parabatai_ ceremony, though I hardly think I should find my own _parabatai_ so it was not of as much interest to me.” She laced her fingers together and placed her hands firmly on the table. “Now, I remember when Tessa was being fitted for her gown. What is the reason Nephilim still wear gold for weddings? That was rather a surprise when I arrived here. I simply thought that the Queen changed that fashion.”

Gabriel forced himself to collect his thoughts. “Nephilim aren’t supposed to adhere to mundane culture.”

Cecily waved her hand in disinterest. “Well that’s a rather boring answer. New question: the Codex says that engagements are made official by the gentleman offering the lady his family ring to wear through the duration of the engagement, only to be returned at the ceremony.”

Gabriel’s face burned. “What is the question?”

“Well,” Cecily said, unbothered, “it’s quite common that a gentleman’s hand is larger than a lady’s. How is she supposed to wear it?”

How she was so unperturbed by the discussion of marriage was beyond Gabriel. When she first declared to Will, moments before meeting her parents, that Cecily would marry /him/, he rather thought he would never know what air felt like in his lungs again. “The silver is enchanted,” he answered hoarsely. “It adjusts to fit the wearer.”

Cecily seemed surprised. “I thought Shadowhunters don’t use magic.”

“It’s not magic,” Gabriel replied defensively. “The rings come from the Adament Citadel. They’re angelic.”

“So if I were to put your Lightwood ring on right now, it would fit?”

The air left Gabriel’s lungs just as it did before Yorkshire. “I suppose,” he choked.

“Lovely,” Cecily answered, then grabbed the Codex out of his hands. “The next chapter discusses Idris…”

  
  


The next time Gabriel found Cecily studying the Codex, she was curled up in the courtyard of the Institute beneath an awning. It had been gray all morning and likely to rain, but Cecily wore no coat or gloves. “Cecily?” Gabriel called from the door. “Why on earth are you out there? It’s going to rain.”

“It’s always going to rain,” Cecily said back. “I’m studying.”

Gabriel sighed and buttoned his jacket before crossing the courtyard. “It’s much more entertaining inside,” he said, standing behind her and peering over her shoulder. She was reading about demons. “Henry is attempting to ‘improve’ the function of the furnace in the kitchen and I do believe Bridget is near to murder.”

She did not answer. “Cecy?” Gabriel asked again.

“Have you ever been poisoned by a demon?” She asked suddenly. He blinked at her. Slowly, Cecily craned her head to look up at him. Her face was void of emotion, but expecting.

“I—yes, once,” he answered hesitantly. “Why?”

“What is it like?”

“It is not pleasant. May I sit?” He gestured to the space beside her on the bench. When she nodded silently, he sat and glanced at her with concern. “Surely the Codex describes—“

“But you lived,” Cecily interrupted, her voice distant. She had returned to looking at the Codex, but it was obvious she was not reading the page. “Not all demon poison is the same, is it?”

There was a waver in her voice that Gabriel was unaccustomed to hearing. “Cecy,” he said quietly. “Is this about Ella?”

Her fingers tightened around the edges of the Codex. “‘Nephilim who have been exposed to poison through a wound require immediate assistance from the Silent City. Untreated infections likely lead to death.’”

Gabriel grabbed the Codex out of her hands and slammed it shut. He assumed she would reach over him for it, but instead she folded her hands in her lap. “Well, that isn’t very educational of you. I’m supposed to be learning,” she replied.

“You are out here in the cold without a coat or gloves, reading about something that is making you upset,” Gabriel said. He put the Codex down the empty space beside him and began to shrug off his jacket. “I wager you aren’t learning anything.”

She made no move to push him away as he draped his jacket over her shoulders. “Teach me,” she said quietly.

“Teach you what?”

“How to treat an infected wound.” She looked at him; a strand of her ink black hair had fallen out of its pins and into her face. He ached to push it back, but something told him she wouldn’t like it now. “I want to know how to give someone their best chance.”

He recalled something Will had told him once. When Cecily wanted something, it was not an expression of an idle desire but an iron determination. “Tell me about Ella,” he said softly in response. Cecily’s eyes widened as she looked at him in surprise. “What was she like?”

Cecily blinked. “Much like Will, I suppose. Protective. Stubborn.”

“Seems like a Herondale trait, then,” said Gabriel with a gentle smile. Cecily’s solemn expression cracked for a moment when the corners of her mouth ticked upward, turning her face away from him to gaze at her lap.

“I’m the youngest. I must learn from somewhere,” she said. Her hands remained folded demurely on her lap and the cold breeze from the impending storm pressed the loose strand of her hair against her cheek. “Ella had less of a temper than Will, though. And she was so very kind when she wanted to be, perhaps the kindest of us. I was always getting into trouble, but I also always had my brother and sister watching out for me.” Cecily paused for a moment to take a deep breath. Gabriel remained silent, but he nodded to indicate he was still listening. “When Ella died and Will left, I didn’t know what to do. I was only nine.”

It was moments like these that always took Gabriel by a bit of surprise. Topics like this would have surely elicited tears from anyone else, but Cecily was entirely her own unique person, and there were no tears in her eyes. “Ella died protecting Will,” Cecily said, her voice soft. “And Will did what he did to protect me. I want to protect people, too.”

“I will teach you how to treat wounds,” Gabriel answered, and gave Cecily a smile when she turned to him. “I am not an expert, Cecy, mind you, but Shadowhunters should know how to buy time for the Silent Brothers to arrive.”

She smiled back at him one of her more gentle smiles; a kind rarely seen by anyone, and certainly not in group settings. “I thought you would.”

“Have you also asked Will?”

Cecily lifted a hand from her lap and placed it beside Gabriel’s on the bench, their fingers brushing. It sent a jolt up Gabriel’s arm. “I bother my brother enough as it is,” she said. “You know, little sister and all that. I thought I might continue receiving part of my training from you.”

  
“What are they doing out there? It’s bloody freezing,” Will grumbled, staring out the Institute window into the courtyard, where he was watching his sister and Gabriel with a close eye and ridged posture. Tessa, who had joined him in the parlor moments before, laid her hand on his arm and smiled.

“She is telling him about Ella,” Tessa said. Will’s face immediately softened, and he looked down at Tessa. “I heard them talking as I walked by.”

“About Ella?” he whispered. Tessa nodded, and Will turned back to watch Cecily through the window. Cecily moved her hand beside Gabriel’s, making Will itch to go out there. “I did not realize she trusted him like that.”

“You trusted me enough to tell me about your sisters,” Tessa said. “Don’t you remember? Isn’t that kind of trust something you wish for Cecily?”

“It is,” he answered hesitantly. “That doesn’t mean I’d like to watch Gabriel Lightwood all sweet on her. I might vomit.”

Tessa laughed. “Cecily is surrounded by people who care about her. You needn’t worry so much.”

“And yet,” Will declared, peeling his face away from the window to smile at Tessa. “That is precisely what I shall continue to do. She is my little sister.” Will’s eyes flickered back toward the window and he let out a sudden shout. “Don’t you kiss my sister, Lightwood!” he barked. Cecily and Gabriel jumped apart, only for Cecily to spot Will through the window and scowl at him.


	4. The Tower of London

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “She’s driving me crazy, but I’m into it / But I’m into it / I’m kind of into it / It’s getting crazy / I think I’m losing it / I think I’m losing it.”  
> -"Kiwi" by Harry Styles

The corridor was dark and quiet; only the dim glow of the witchlights prevented Gabriel from walking blindly into one of the thousand walls of the London Institute. It was not too late; eight o’clock at most, but the sun had set, and the elder residents of the Institute had left to begin their patrols immediately after dinner.

It was rare when the patrolling schedule required Gideon, Sophie, Will, and Tessa to be out at the same time, but it was precisely the kind of night Gabriel and Cecily had waited for.

Gabriel approached her bedroom door and knocked quietly. Charlotte and Henry were still about the Institute, he knew, though they weren’t likely to be strolling along this corridor. Their own bedroom was in another wing, and Henry had been spending much time in the crypt which meant Charlotte would be firmly set in the study nearest to it until he emerged.

The door opened with a short squeak and Cecily appeared. She was dressed in simple gray evening dress, adorned with her ever-present ruby necklace and a light coat draped over her shoulders. Her hair was pinned up neatly with two strands left out to frame her heart-shaped face; Gabriel assumed that was deliberate as he itched to tuck them behind her ears. “Are you ready?” he asked. Cecily smiled at him.

“Yes. Are you?”

Gabriel blinked. He had spent nearly an hour deciding which suit to wear to look his best for her. He’d finally decided on a charcoal suit and waistcoat; a choice that had worked well for him in the end seeing Cecily in her dress. Suddenly, Gabriel realized what she had meant. There was a subtle haze around her; she had remembered her glamour. With a shake of his head, Gabriel lifted his stele from his waistcoat pocket and carved a glamour into his arm. “I am now,” he said, shooting a delighted grin at her. “The carriage is ready outside.”

  
Cecily led the way down the dark hallway and down the steps, carefully avoiding any movements that would draw unwanted attention to their departure. She knew it was greatly improper to go out with a gentleman at night without a chaperone, but they hardly ever got any time alone together anymore; not with their brothers lurking and the Consul in residence. There were Shadowhunters in and out of the Institute constantly. It was driving Cecily near mad.

Ever a proper gentleman, Gabriel opened to door to the carriage and held out his hand to her. It was ungloved, and his palm was rough in hers. He also wore no hat; the wind rustled his hair against the backdrop of the lamplights. Her heart flipped with the memory of when she first held his hand. With a nod of her head, Cecily stepped into the carriage and took her seat. Gabriel smiled at her, then swung himself up into the driver’s seat. The carriage lurched, then set off into the streets of London.

Some half an hour later, Gabriel stopped the carriage at Trinity Square Gardens. It was not a large park, but it was precisely the kind of place their brothers, Sophie, and Tessa would not be patrolling. The door opened and Gabriel reappeared, holding his hand out to her again. “Miss Herondale,” he said with a smirk. Cecily raised her chin as she left the carriage.

“Gabriel,” she replied, still adjusting to the use of his Christian name even after so many months of him insisting she do so. “Taking a lady to the outskirts of a prison is not what one would think of as a romantic outing.”

Gabriel snorted. “But it is surely something _you_ would enjoy, I think.”

Cecily glanced around at the sight as they walked onto the grass. There were only a handful of people about in her field of vision, two of which were the guards of the Tower of London across the walkway. All mundane and all without the Sight, apparently. “How well you seem to know me now,” she answered. Together they sat in the cool grass, shoulders brushing. The winter snow had melted off and the signs of approaching spring were present in the flora around them. Small flower buds were beginning to grow in the boxes lining the park, and the grass had begun to regain its vibrant green, though the growing darkness of night made it difficult to see just how green it was now. Not that it mattered to Cecily much—it would never match the green of Wales, or Gabriel’s eyes.

“Cecy?”

“Hm?” she answered.

“What are you thinking about?”

Cecily stared off in the distance, beyond the Tower, toward the rushing Thames. “Sometimes I forget that I’m in London,” she said, unsure if that truly answered his question. “And then I forget quite how large this city is, and how I should possibly ever see it all.”

A moment passed before Gabriel slowly reached for her hand and pressed his palm against hers. “I could show it to you,” he murmured. “But I think I’d rather show you Alicante.”

“I’ve been to Alicante,” she said. “For Sophie’s Ascension.”

Gabriel breathed a short laugh. “I meant show you the rest of the city. The City of Glass. I spent most of my life in Idris until last year, whether for school or the hundreds of times I had to wait in Lightwood Manor for my father to finish his Council meetings. It’s better than London, I think.”

Cecily smiled and looked up. The moonlight made his sharp features stand out in the dark. “Then why not return to live there?”

“Because you are here,” came his reply instantly. Cecily felt the heat rising in her cheeks, but she held his gaze.

“What about Gideon?” she whispered. “Don’t you think he and Sophie will move to Idris after the wedding because of his seat on the Council?”

Gabriel’s face flickered. “They probably will, yes,” he said distantly.

“You will not go with?”

To Cecily’s surprise, Gabriel laughed. “I’m certain my brother does not want his little brother to live with him and his new wife. No, I think I will stay here.” There was a pause, then quietly: “For now, at least.”

Cecily fought to keep her emotions from rising in her throat. Would he leave? She still had two years of training before she would be considered a full Shadowhunter, an adult. She was still a ward of the London Institute until then; Will’s responsibility as Head of the Institute and as her brother. Before she could say anything, a red glow illuminated between them.

“Cecily—” Gabriel whispered anxiously.

“Demons,” she confirmed, looking down at her necklace, which pulsed at her throat. They quickly stood and surveyed the area. In the distance, over the mostly empty moat at the front of the Tower of London, were three large demons scaling the wall and into the enclosure. They were too far for Cecily to discern what kind of demons. Without hesitation, Cecily reached for her stele, hidden in the ribbon of her dress, and moved toward the carriage. “We have to go in.”

“ _Cecily!_ ” Gabriel hissed, watching her draw a Night Vision rune onto her now-exposed forearm. “You cannot just break into the Tower of London!”

Cecily looked up at him evenly. Her hand fluttered gracefully with every flick of her wrist, finishing off the rune. “The government knows about Nephilim. Surely Her Majesty would rather a couple of Shadowhunters scale the wall to stop demons than have her crown jewels destroyed by said demons.” Gabriel stammered, but Cecily did not wait for him to answer. She grabbed the bag of weapons and tools out of the carriage and retrieved a hook and rope. “If you would like to wait in the carriage, be my guest.”

  
  
  
Gabriel ran his fingers through his hair and took the bag from her hands. He pulled out a protective gear jacket and handed it to her. She stared at him in surprise. “This is a man’s gear jacket!”

“Well, I did not exactly plan on going on patrol with _you_ tonight,” Gabriel said, shoving the jacket at her again. “If you’re going to insist on breaking into the Tower of London in an evening dress, I ask that you at least wear some kind of gear.”

Cecily took the jacket with a scowl and put it on; the jacket was several sizes too large for her. “Happy? I look ridiculous.”

“Scaling the Tower in a dress would have looked ridiculous anyway, what’s the harm?” He did not say so, but he found her appearance in his oversized jacket quite adorable. He cuffed the sleeves of the jacket so that her hands were not obstructed. Then he strapped his longsword to his back and handed Cecily a dagger. Her scowl disappeared, replaced by a smirk.

“Oh, Gabriel, did you really think I came unarmed?” She began to lift the hem of her dress. Gabriel shouted and averted his eyes.

“Cecy, please!”

With a laugh, Cecily grabbed a seraph blade from the pack, turned, and dragged him across the walkway toward the north wall of the Tower. She swung the hook, now attached to the rope, high into the air. The hook swirled around one of the Tower’s turrets and held steady. Cecily began to climb. “Don’t forget your Night Vision,” she called down to him after she had ventured a few feet.

Gabriel stared after her, half in awe and adoration and half in incredulous exasperation. It was true that there was never a dull moment with Cecily. With haste, Gabriel drew himself a Night Vision rune. Cecily was nearly entirely up the wall before Gabriel scrambled up after her. 

  
When Gabriel landed on the ground inside the Tower, he did not expect to find Cecily already halfway across the yard. “Cecily!” he called, walking quickly toward her. “Cecily, what are you _doing_?”

She turned. Before she could open her mouth to reply, a dark figure came barreling out from the shadows and knocked her to the ground. Gabriel immediately shot two knives at the demon while running full speed toward Cecily. His heart raced, but his mind was eased slightly when he saw her kicking forcefully. The demon howled and a blade appeared through its back, shimmering in the darkness. The demon vanished into dust, leaving Cecily groaning on the gravel.

Gabriel fell to his knees beside her. “Are you hurt?” he asked quickly, pulling her into a sitting position. He cupped her face in his shaking hands. She looked at him, her blue eyes wide but fearless.

“I’m all right,” she said, her voice steady. “Rather rude, I must say. No respect for common decency these days. Can’t they see I’m in a dress?”

Gabriel blinked at her. “Always a Herondale,” he muttered, his heart rate slowing down in relief. He stood and hauled Cecily to her feet. There had been three demons but only one attacked. Gabriel turned and stood with his back against Cecily’s, looking around for sign of the other two. “Mantis demons,” he said. “Not poisonous, but deadly if they get their arms on you. They’re extremely sharp.”

He felt Cecily nod against his back. “My necklace is still glowing,” she answered. “They’re still nearby. Where would they go?”

Gabriel glanced around. It was late and not many lamps had been lit. “They’re like insects, attracted to light.”

“The jewels,” Cecily said. “The lanterns are on in the entrance to the Crown Jewels.” She moved suddenly, rushing toward the archway that lead to the priceless English artifacts. Cecily had been right. As they approached the entrance, they found the body of a Tower guard, cut and bleeding, slumped against the wall. Gabriel glanced at Cecily; her face was horrified, but she did not quail. Her necklace was shining brightly, pulsing rapidly against her pale skin.

From around the corner came a rustling. Gabriel peered around and found the other two Mantis demons scratching at the thick metal door separating them from the priceless jewels. “ _Uriel_ ,” Gabriel whispered, and his seraph blade lit up the room. The Mantis demons turned and hissed, rushing toward the light the blade gave off. One of the demons rushed Gabriel headfirst; but, to Gabriel’s more intense terror, the other demon rushed past him and at Cecily, the light of her ruby necklace combining with the light of her seraph blade.

Gabriel turned and launched his weight at the demon before him. Its body crashed against the stone wall. It hissed and swung its razorlike arms at him. A stinging pain came from his left arm. Gabriel ducked, then thrust his blade upward and into the demon’s chest. It dissipated into dust, but Gabriel had no time to consider the state of his clothes. He whirled around, where Cecily had been standing moments before.

She was no longer there. His heartbeat began to roar in his ears as he flew out of the room and back into the archway. Hesitantly, Gabriel stopped to check the mundane who had encountered the Mantis demon before them. To his surprise, he found a pulse. Gabriel pressed the man’s coat into his wounds to slow the bleeding until someone could find him. He stood and returned to the yard. There, leaning against the outer stone, was Cecily. The third demon was gone. “I got it,” she said. “It’s gone.”

Gabriel dropped his blade in the gravel. There was a scratch across her cheek, and she was covered in dirt, but it was the open gash on her arm, bleeding profusely, that had Gabriel sick to his stomach. He was at her side in a second, pressing one hand against the wound while his other fumbled for his stele. “Stay still,” he told her. She gave no response as he pressed the tip of his stele against her wrist and drew an _iratze_.

The edges of the wound began to inch toward each other, closing slowly. It would be several minutes before it closed completely, but Cecily’s face relaxed, which gave Gabriel much needed air back into his lungs. She glanced down at her arms and swore. “I liked this dress, too,” she muttered. Her eyes flicked back up to him. “You’re hurt.”

Gabriel looked down at his own arm, where the Mantis had gotten him. The scratch was bleeding, but the sting had gone away. “I’ll be all right,” he answered her. “I’ll draw in _iratze_ when I get you back to the carriage.”

Cecily shook her head and grabbed his stele from his hand. “No, I will draw one right now.” He could only blush furiously as she tugged his jacket down and ripped the torn fabric of his sleeve enough to draw an _iratze_ near the scratch. She smiled at him before tucking his stele back into his waistcoat. “There. Good as new.”

He couldn’t help himself. He leaned down and kissed her, sliding his hand against her cheek and cupping her neck. She smiled against his lips and mumbled inaudibly. He pulled back and watched her, filled with affection. “What?”

“I said we should probably get back to the carriage. You know, before someone finds this poor man and attracts the attention of the people who are actually on patrol tonight.”

Gabriel glanced behind her to look mournfully at the mundane who they would have to leave. “He’ll live,” he said slowly. “But you’re right. Are you well enough to climb back over the wall?”

  
Sneaking out of the Institute had seemed to prove much easier than sneaking back in.

Despite being able to get the carriage back in to the lot without detection, there was still the issue of replacing the torn gear jacket Cecily had been wearing and walking back up the steps to their bedrooms without running into anyone. It was near ten o’clock now, so at least they didn’t have their brothers to worry about for another couple of hours.

“I’ll go replace the jacket,” Gabriel whispered to Cecily at the door of the Institute. “If I get caught, I’ll say I decided to go on a solo patrol around the corner.”

Cecily smiled softly at him and tugged his collar down to kiss his cheek. He smiled gently back at her and carefully brushed his fingers over the ruined sleeve of her dress. Her wound had closed during the carriage ride back, much to her relief. She did not want to have to explain it to Will. “I’m sorry tonight did not go how we planned it,” he said. “I will make it up to you.”

Cecily shook her head. “No,” she breathed. “I wanted to spend time with you, and I did.”

He kissed her again, soft and quick, but it rendered Cecily’s legs weak as it did every time. “Goodnight, Cecily.”


End file.
